2014 in a nutshell

Did you miss me?  Anyway, here's a brief rundown of most of my 2014 theatre viewing.  Short and sweet.

Mothers and Sons (Bway - Golden, May 8, 7pm) - Tyne Daly can do no wrong, but I'm sure even she is sick of getting typecast in "nightmare mother" roles. The play poses interesting question of what constitutes family in these days of shifting definitions, but seems like a draft rather than a finished product.
A Gentlemen's Guide to Love and Murder (Bway - Walter Kerr, May 14, 8pm) - Nice to see legit singing back on Broadway. Clever staging, great performances, a dry, almost British comic sensibility, site gags a-plenty. Not earth-shattering, but an enjoyable evening of theatre.
If/Then (Bway - Richard Rodgers, May 29, 8pm) - Idina Menzel is in incredible voice, sounding better than ever (including Wicked). The dual story lines, while not necessarily confusing, seem a bit contrived. Especially the whole *spoiler alert* plane crash. Weird set design that basically cuts the stage height in half, with no apparent pay-off visually. Tom Kitt knows how to write a driving pop ballad. See it for Menzel's performance.
Holler if Ya Hear Me (Bway - Palace, Jun 5, 8pm) - Unlike every legit reviewer on the planet, I actually enjoyed this show. It wasn't perfect by any means. But I found the earnest, yet wildly shifting tone - one minute hardcore street, the next minute a J-Lo music video - enough to keep me interested. Tupac's music and lyrics are worth a listen.
Lady Day (Bway - Circle in the Square, Jun 7, 2pm) - Audra is a goddess and I just needed to see the show for a third time.
Piece of My Heart (OB - Signature Center, Jun 26, 7:30p) - I had no idea that Bert Berns was behind so many hit songs of the 60s. The book is a little rough and the criminally under-used Leslie Kritzer needs more to sing, but you can't beat the score of pop hits.
Violet (Bway - AA, Jul 5, 2:00p) - Sutton Foster is just about perfect and the score is one of Tesori's best. Ensemble cast is uniformly excellent. Glad to have caught this production as a Broadway revival isn't likely again anytime soon.
This Is Our Youth (Bway - Cort, Aug 30, 2pm) - An usher randomly offered to move Trish and I to front row seats, so we got plenty of up-close time with Kieren Culkin and Michael Cera. Solid production, well-cast.
Found (OB - Atlantic Theater, Sep 21, 7pm) - Went in cold and thoroughly enjoyed this quirky musical full of unexpected wit and charm about the pitfalls of success. Always nice to see colleague Orville Mendoza on stage. The show is unique and idiosyncratic, so sadly it probably won't be a hit with the masses.
On The Town (Bway - Lyric, Sep 27, 8pm) - Huge-scale Broadway revival of the Bernstein/Comden/Green musical about sailors on shore leave in the 1940s. Cried when they played the National Anthem to open the show and everyone stood up and sang. I'm sucker for sentimentality. Athletic choreography, virtuoso dancing, huge ensemble, full orchestra, Bernstein score. What's not to like?
The Last Ship (Bway -Neil Simon, Oct 6, 8pm) - Haunting, tuneful score by pop icon Sting in a gorgeous production with a stunning final tableau. And Rachel Tucker should be a star in America (not just in her native Ireland/UK). I honestly don't understand the bad reviews.
On The Town (Bway - Lyric, Oct 23, 7pm) - With another large-scale Broadway revival highly unlikely within my lifetime, had to make a second visit.
Side Show (Bway - St. James, Oct 1, 8pm) - I'm definitely a fan of the much-maligned original production. I found this re-imagined "revisal" less affecting than the original, but appreciated the more realistic approach to the staging and make-up. And you really can't beat the score chock full of driving power ballads. What can I say? I'm a child of the 80s. It's near impossible to match the balls-to-the-wall original performances of Ripley and Skinner, but Erin Davie and Emily Padgett are worthy successors.
Fortress of Solitude (OB - Public, Nov 8, 8pm) - Wonderful score, inventive staging, the always charming Adam Chanler-Berat heading a top-notch Broadway caliber cast rocking a nostalgia-driven period pop and R&B driven score. Hope to see a move uptown in a bigger production that I think would only elevate the piece given the scope of the material.
You Can't Take It With You (Bway - Longacre, Nov 13, 7pm) - I have just three words - James Earl Jones. Annaleigh Ashford is pretty spectacular, too. Nice to see this chestnut lifted out of high-school-production purgatory and given a full-scale Broadway production.
Honeymoon in Vegas (Bway - Nederlander, Nov 20, 8pm) - Jason Robert Brown just can't catch a break. As always, a fantastic score saddled to a problematic book that maybe clung too literally to the source material. Honestly, I found my 2014 sensibilities unable to fully warm to the idea of betting your spouse in a poker game. But always great to see one of my old Grease tour castmates, Gaelen Gillilend, in yet another Broadway show (yes, I will continue to name drop!).

Italians, Asians and White Bitches...

Who said there isn’t any diversity on Broadway?

Here’s a down and-dirty re-cap of a few shows I failed to review earlier this year.

Bridges of Madison County

Schoenfeld Theatre

Tuesday, January 21, 8PM

The movie version is a guilty pleasure of mine, having bonded with my now sister-in-law, Val, while watching a rerun on TV and weeping uncontrollably as we watched Meryl agonizingly clutch the door handle of her truck while both of us screamed at the TV, “Go! Go with Clint!”

Perhaps it was our youthful idealism (or I’m now just a jaded, old bitch), but seeing the same scenario play out onstage nearly two decades later, Francesca’s choice doesn’t seem all that complicated to me. Stay with your loving husband (yeah, he’s boring, but you chose him) and children, or drop everything for the hunky drifter you’ve known for all of four days.

I know, it’s a romance and Steven Pasquale, I mean Robert, is super tasty, but in this case the pragmatist in me over-rides my hormones. Maybe that’s why I don’t quite buy the “soul mate” argument in this case.

That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy Bridges (the musical). The score is gorgeous, and filled with JRB’s trademark soaring folk-pop ballads along with some more – dare I say – sophisticated writing for Kelli O’Hara’s lovely legit soprano. Sadly, I think her wonderful performance might get passed over once again at this year’s Tonys for bigger names and showier roles – always the bridesmaid. Oh well, at least she doesn’t have to compete against Audra.

Steven Pasquale is the reason the wife-beater t-shirt was invented. What a voice. And did I mention he’s hot?

My main quibble is with the show’s structure. Opening up the story gives too much time to secondary characters. I wanted to stay with Robert and Francesca. Their attraction is obviously sexual at first. But when/how does it become emotional? What’s Robert’s story (other than having an ex that left him a guitar that he can’t play)? They have sex and all of a sudden they’re in love and want to run away together? There are just so many details of their relationship I wanted to explore, but instead we get a random chorus member clogging at the state fair.

Kung Fu

Signature Theatre

Tuesday, February 18, 7:30PM

Bruce Lee’s story is fascinating and definitely worth telling, but this play suffers from multiple personal disorder. It’s sometimes a by-the-numbers biopic, sometimes a campy homage to Lee, and sometimes a visually stunning father-son dance fantasy.

That said, Sonia Tayeh (one of my favorite SYTYCD choreographers) is a goddess. Her choreography and movement (along with fight director, Emmanuel Brown) are the real stars of Kung Fu. Any time the piece moves – that includes the intricately choreographed set changes – I was engaged. The book scenes seemed like filler to get us to the next production number.

The cast, too, is uniformly excellent with Cole Horibe, a SYTYCD finalist with no previous acting credits, giving a respectable NYC stage debut. Though his thick, cartoonish accent – which I guess the real Bruce Lee may very well have possessed – often took me out of the moment. What he lacks in subtlety, he more than makes up for with his dancing, martial arts expertise and six pack.

Heathers

New World Stages

Sunday, March 30, 7:30PM

Heathers is maybe the gayest thing to hit NYC theatre in years. It’s a camp musical based on a camp film full of campy performances and campy catch phrases featuring shirtless young studs. Bring on the gays! I’ll also wager the producers hope to snag nostalgia driven forty-somethings (like me) longing to feel cool and relevant. Though the homo sub-plot, snicker-inducing at the time the movie was originally released, now seems positively quaint.

Heathers is a tad darker than the same songwriting team’s last stage effort, Broadway’s Legally Blond, but it covers similar ground. I was actually hoping the satire would be darker, more on the level of their earliest commercial work, Bat Boy. Oh well, at least we get a fun evening filled with the zinging one-liners that made the movie an instant classic. I mean, has any movie graced the English lexicon with a more memorable exclamation than “fuck me gently with a chainsaw”? Methinks not.

The score is efficient and pleasant enough, with the obligatory high belting to signify emotion. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. It’s just so, well, obvious. That said, I found “Blue,” sung by Kurt and Ram about a certain condition of the male genitalia, hilarious. Yes, my sense of humor is about on the level of a 10-year-old. And I’m sure the bullied Martha’s moving 11-o-clock number, “Kindergarten,” will be so overdone at auditions and cabarets over the next year that I’ll grow to hate it.

The cast is young and pretty and sing beautifully and loudly.

The unit set looks like the interior of a space ship from a bad 70s sci-fi movie (except in violet and pink hues) and at no time even remotely suggests any of the settings within the show.

The direction was adequate but pedestrian – basically moving traffic on an off the stage.

As a whole, the show felt like a Broadway musical banished to an off-Broadway house. The material and story cried out for a bigger venue and large cast.

At the performance I attended, the audience was peppered with annoying superfans that squealed and screamed at every familiar line or scene.

But did I enjoy myself? Yes.

My review of Lady Day or "I didn't think I could possibly love Audra more"

Lady Day at Emerson's Bar and Grill

Circle in the Square

Thursday, March 27, 8PM

Warning: This is a completely biased review from an unapologetic Audra-obsessed fanboy.  Do not expect impartial criticism.

Audra and Billie

I don’t care if the nominating committee can’t decide whether Lady Day is a “musical” or a “play with music.” Just hand Audra her sixth Tony. If I had my way, I would institute a “Best Performance by Audra McDonald” category and she could win a Tony every year. We can then debate the flawlessness of each performance in whatever show she’s currently appearing.

As a confirmed Audraphile, I admit even I had my doubts. Audra’s voice is perfection, but I just couldn’t imagine Audra’s soaring legit soprano attempt to take on Billie Holiday’s iconic songs and performance style.

What Ms. McD accomplishes transcends mere mimicry. She's dampened some of the glorious bloom and lushness of her soprano voice in order to inhabit - not just imitate - Holiday’s iconic sound, style and manner.

It’s unfortunate the book scenes don’t match the quality of Audra’s performance. They are uneven and sometimes unnecessarily meandering. But Audra manages to enthrall with even mediocre writing. There is an immediacy and desperation in her performance that only heightens the tragedy of Holiday’s short, demon-filled life.

The intimate Circle in the Square is the perfect venue to see Audra up close and personal. And even as a boozed-up, heroin addict, Audra’s still radiant. Though I suspect if she ever played a homeless, scarred leper I’d still find her radiant.

Did I mention I’m obsessed with Audra?

Props to the excellent onstage jazz trio whose talents are equally responsible for the style and sound of the show.

Bullets Over Broadway on Broadway

Bullets Over Broadway
St. James Theatre
Saturday, March 15, 2pm

When this shady old bitch was in college some 20 (gasp) odd years ago, Bullets Over Broadway was required Friday night drunken dorm viewing for any aspiring theatre dork/queen. So you can imagine the show boner I popped when Woody (pun intended – hehe) Allen announced he was prepping Bullets for a musical stage adaptation.

My amorous mood was shattered once producers announced they would use pre-existing period songs instead of creating an original score. My beloved Bullets was to be adapted into another awful jukebox musical tourist trap a la Mamma Mia. Don't speak. Please, don't speak.

The interpolated songs are fairly logically integrated into the plot and are newly arranged with some updated lyrics that lend (some) specificity to their placement in the show. There are, nonetheless, several instances where the shoe-horn effect grinds this otherwise solid stage adaptation to a screeching halt.

I don't know what kind of incriminating photos the producers are holding against Karen Ziemba, but I'm thankful it's forced her to accept what amounts to a glorified featured ensemble role. Regardless, she manages to transform the pleasant yet pointless "There's a New Day Comin'" into a reasonably inoffensive second act opener. Though I suspect the number was added to accommodate her luxury casting. And the thoroughly anticlimactic finale (“Yes, We Have No Bananas”) seems like a non sequitur, a place holder until the creative team can come up with an appropriately glitzy replacement.

The rest of the score is good to serviceable, mostly a means for the cast to show-off vocally or give Stro a reason to inject some leggy showgirls into the mix. It's all entertainingly performed and staged, but any one of the songs could be randomly cut and you'd really not miss it much. 

The flashy but tasteful art deco-inspired set is a marvel of designer ingenuity, with a remarkable amount of different locations suggested by a minimum of set pieces.  The second act rotating stage-within-a-stage embellished with chorus girls in tableau is the kind of staging inventiveness we expect from the prop-happy choreographer that brought us Crazy For You.

The show looks great, all the performances are solid and the choreography is vintage Susan Stroman - though nothing quite reaches the eye-popping excitement of her best work (i.e. "I Got Rhythm" or "Little Old Lay Land"). Still, the show never felt more than "pleasant" to me.

Keeping with my boner metaphor, I think the show shoots it's proverbial wad too soon. Near the beginning of the show, the wannabe actress, Olive, has an outrageous number called "I Want a Hot Dog for My Roll" (insert bat over head). Anyway, it has the audience roaring. Unfortunately, nothing that follows tops it. The audience keeps waiting for the 11 o' clock number that never comes.

Nick Cordero's Cheech is the highlight of the show and a shoe-in for a best supporting actor Tony nom. Mazzie looks and sounds gorgeous, but would have benefited from an original song that might better exploit her huge range and personality. Zach Braff is adorable with a pleasant enough singing voice, but the character doesn't really register much amidst all the other big personalities surrounding him. Helene York is an audience favorite, but seemed to go for the obvious choice - ditzy slut with nails-on-a-chalkboard voice. I think a much more interesting choice would have been to temper her a bit, make her more subtlely manipulative with maybe a hint of Bettie Boop. Then again, what do I know? Woody's a gajillionaire and I answer phones.

Back-to-back “Rocky”s

Rocky the Musical
Winter Garden Theatre
Thursday, Feb 13, 8PM &
Friday, Feb 14, 8PM

I’ve never been a huge fan of the Rocky franchise but the mere thought of a new Ahrens & Flaherty score is enough to get me drooling in anticipation. That, and the fantasy of A&H writing a new Witches of Eastwick musical starring Audra (in the Cher role), Carolee Carmello (in the Sarandon role) and Kate Baldwin (in the Pfeiffer role). Never gonna’ happen, but a girl can dream.

Tonight’s performance was the first official preview since last night’s performance was canceled due to electrical issues caused by all the salt and melting snow. In a brief pre-curtain speech, director Alex Timbers explained that the two huge metal beasts humming outside the theatre on Seventh Avenue are actually industrial generators. That’s right, ConEd, a little electrical issue isn’t gonna’ stop Philly’s finest from making his Broadway debut.

Timbers also warned that the show might be stopped at any moment to ensure the actors' safety given the technical demands of the massive multiple moving set piecess. I briefly envisioned Rocky Balboa flying Spider-Man-style above the stage, whacking into the side of the proscenium and then slowly sliding down the side of the stage.

But I couldn’t luxuriate in my schadenfreude-induced fantasy for long. The houselights dimmed and the iconic trumpet fanfare (interpolated from the movie) blared through the speakers. The audience expectedly roared its approval. And truth be told, hearing that music coupled with the crowd’s reaction got my adrenaline pumping as well.

The show itself is a fairly straight forward adaptation of the movie by original writer, Sylvester Stallone (with an assist from veteran book writer, Thomas Meehan). The turtles, the raw eggs, the “Yo, Adrienne!”’s and the Art Museum steps are all there – no surprises. 

Straight adaptions usually bother me but perhaps I was feeling unusually sentimental on this pre-Valentine's Day evening, because the shared audience familiarity was oddly comforting. I mean, it’s Rocky after all, not King Lear.

Though the score lacks the sweeping power of A&F’s previous efforts, it possesses a simplicity and sweetness that seems entirely appropriate for these blue collar characters. Though I’ll admit I did find myself waiting for the evening’s “Wheels of a Dream.” Sigh. Maybe I'll get my anthem fix in their upcoming Little Dancer.

The physical design is pretty spectacular with hulking set pieces fluidly (at least at the first preview) moving around and above the ant-like cast. Even a rafter-descending rack of beef sides gets enthusiastic audience applause.

And then there's the climactic final boxing match. Possibly the most exciting 15 minutes of staging I've witnessed in the last 10 years of theatre-going. I won't spoil it, but if a real fight is anywhere near as thrilling as what happens at the Winter Garden eight times a week, count me in for ringside seats at Madison Square Garden.

Of course, I may have been slightly influenced by the unusually vocal audience that seemed made up of the cast's friends and family and comped Equity members. After the show I even ran into an old actor friend who mistook my straight twink theatre companion for my boyfriend. As if. I don't date anyone born after the first Back to the Future movie was released. A lady needs to maintain some standards.

Photo courtesy of Broadway.com

And I almost forgot. Sly himself took a bow after the curtain call to congratulate the cast in his unmistakably slurred Stallone speech. The man does look good, if a bit "pulled."

Déjà vu - Rocky, take 2

With the upcoming President's Day weekend holiday, Juan and Val planned a staycation in the city. And after my freakish raves about Rocky's final fight scene, Val immediately bought us all TDF tickets for Friday night's performance.

Of course, Val hadn't realized it was also Valentine's Day, so instead of spending a romantic evening with Juan, she had to settle for a not-so-intimate evening with me, my "date" Dylan (another voice teacher at the conservatory) and the other 1500 or so audience members at the Winter Garden.

I'm a total musical theatre dork, but even I have never seen the same Broadway show two days in a row. I guess I can now graduate to theatre Queen - with a capital "Q" - which I assume entitles me to a longer red velvet cape and at least an added be-jeweled scepter.

While yesterday's first preview was technically flawless, the second preview - not so much. Several automated pieces malfunctioned and had to be moved manually by stage hands. The actors gamely improv-ed to cover some really awkward pauses and missed scene changes - most notably a missing set of lockers that set up a running gag through the show.

The stage manager then had to stop the show mid-way through act one for about 10 minutes to reset two large moving walls that decided they liked where they were sitting.

An important prop went missing in the second act - the Christmas tree topper that was supposed to be the button of Rocky and Adrienne's big Act 2 love duet.

Oh well, the magic of live theatre!

Other then the technical issues, the show played pretty consistently based on yesterday's first preview. Though Andy Karl seemed much more vocally secure the second night (first performance seemed to suffer a bit from opening night nerves causing some minor pitch issues). The rest of the performances were solid to good.

Rocky certainly is no Ragtime or Once on this Island, but it's a solid evening of fun nostalgia for those of us who can still remember the 80s. It's also the perfect "straight" guy musical (if he can sit still through the more traditional first act). But there's no denying the real star performance in this production - the awesome set and Alex Timber's direction.

Reviews - 2013

• Macbeth (Bway)
• Romeo and Juliet (Bway)
• Two Boys (Met)
• Fun Home (OB)
• Merrily We Roll Along (London/Movie Showing)
• Big Fish (Bway)
• The Glass Menagerie (Bway)
• The Nance (Bway)
• Nobody Loves You (OB)
• Pippin (Bway)
• The Little Mermaid (Paper Mill)
• Here Lies Love (OB)
• Into The Woods (McCarter)
• Far From Heaven (OB)
• Orphans (Bway)
• The Trip To Bountiful (Bway)
• Audra McDonald (Avery Fisher)
• The Last 5 Years (OB)
• Jekyll & Hyde (Bway)
• Passion (OB)
• Totem (Citi Field)
• It's a Bird...It's a Plane...It's Superman (Encores)
• Cinderella (Bway)
• Hands On A Hardbody (Bway)
• Annie (Bway)
• Nice Work If You Can Get It (Bway)
• Golden Age (OB)
• Evita (Bway)
• Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (Bway)

I'm still here! Catching up on 2013...

Nobody Loves You
Second Stage Theatre
Saturday, Aug 10 @ 2PM

A fun sit-com of a musical where a snotty grad student goes on a reality dating show to prove that reality shows are a scam.  And of course, ends up falling in love.  It's totally predictable, but the characters and actors are so likable that you excuse the trite set-up and inevitable conclusion.

The score is tuneful, generic pop musical theatre, but the talented cast elevates it beyond what it probably deserves.  It's crammed full of media and technology references that scream "aren't we clever" and for the most part, they are.  Although many of the gray-haired matinee ladies were looking around in confusion as the younger set laughed over hashtags and texting acronyms.

I wish Leslie Kritzer had more to do, but she does the most she can with a big ole stereotype of a character (incidentally, all the characters as written are big ole stereotypes).  Heath Calvert is perfect as a hunky, dim narcissist of a television host.  And Rory O'Malley displays his comic versatility in a range of characters from douche bag frat boy to flamboyant gossip queen.

It's harmless fun with a top notch cast.

The Nance
Lyceum Theatre
Saturday, Aug 10 @ 8PM

It's been months now, but what I remember most was my surprise at Nathan Lane's heartbreaking performance in a dramatic role.  Ever since The Producers, it seemed Lane was stuck in a never-ending loop of wacky, flamboyant comic character roles.  He'd become a caricature of himself.

In The Nance Lane plays Chauncey, a 1930s burlesque comedian trying to come to terms with his sexuality at a time when homosexuality was still considered a mental illness.  Things get complicated when a handsome young stranger forces Chauncey to question his hedonistic lifestyle (to whore, or not to whore?).

The play's structure consists of period musical and comedy skits intercut between traditional dialogue scenes, with the skits commenting on the action of the play.  Cady Huffman, Andrea Burns and Jenni Barber are the lovable activist strippers trying to stand-up to the evil censoring Republicans looking to shut down the burlesque houses.  The only thing missing is a trumpet, some butterfly wings and a light-up bra.

Refreshingly, this isn't the campy romp we usually come to expect from Douglas Carter Beane, who appropriately leaves most of the bitchy one-liners within the skits.

Jonny Orsini is affecting as the young object of Chauncey's lust.  The straightforwardness and simplicity of his acting - as well as some full frontal action - quickly earn the audience's sympathies.

The Glass Menagerie
Booth Theatre
Sunday, Sep 8, 2PM

I'm now officially an aging theatre queen.  It's depressing enough that producers are reviving shows I've seen in their original productions.  But now I'm on to multiple revivals of the same show!  Sigh.  Pretty soon I'll be lamenting the bygone era of LPs and mix tapes and reminiscing about the good ole' days when MTV used to play - gasp - music videos.

Anyway, the most striking aspect of the most recent revival of Tennessee Williams' The Glass Menagerie is the stunning set and lighting design.  The designers have interpreted the "memory play" aspect of the script into a literal visual image.  The set and players seem to float within the dark expanse of the theatre's proscenium.

As always, Cherry Jones gives a thoughtful, intelligent performance as Amanda, the fading southern matriarch.  She infuses her Amanda with a grounded, earth-mother vibe that I'm not totally convinced is the most appropriate route for the character.  It's a growling, fierce performance that seems at odds with Amanda's genteel debutante past.  It's definitely original and unexpected, but I prefer my Amanda's a bit more, well, southern.  Maybe it's because my first Amanda was the delicate, oh-so-southern, Jessica Lange.

Zachary "Spock" Quinto is lending a not-so-subtle gay subtext to Tom, and there is some pretty overt homo-eroticism going on between Tom and the gentleman caller in the second act.  No such undertones in the Lange production, where Christian Slater (yes, that Christian Slater) played Tom as just a schlubby loser.

The director, John Tiffany, adds some interesting impressionistic flourishes to the staging.  Some work wonderfully - characters literally teetering on the "edge" of the set (i.e. their memories) - while others seem gimmicky - repeated movements reminiscent of acting class exercises.

And in case your wondering, I'm in the camp that likes the woman-eating couch.  Don't ask.

It may not be the perfect production for Menagerie purists, but this is a genuinely original take on the well-known melodrama.

Romeo and Juliet
Richard Rodgers
Sunday, Sep 29 @ 3pm

Beside the several phone interruptions and clandestine photo-taking by the teenager and her mom sitting next to me, I found myself not hating this recent Broadway revival of the Bard's classic love story.  It's not ground-breaking or revelatory, but the well-known story still packs an emotional punch and Bloom and Rashad are charming and likable.

Sure, the loud, clanging incidental music and sleek modern design obviously caters to the attention-span challenged tweeners and star-fuckers feigning class by attending "Shakespea-uh on the Broadway," but it's entertaining nonetheless.

Thanks to a second row orchestra seat (go TDF!), I got an eyeful of the strapping Orlando Bloom and lovely Condola Rashad.  But the unfortunate placement of the balcony at the lip of the stage left me with a stiff neck and aching lower back by the end of the evening.

Even up close, the 30-something Bloom still passes for a twink - must be some kind of Middle Earth elf magic - and he gives a charmingly earnest, unaffected performances.  I'm a Rashad fan, but surprisingly I found her the weaker of the pair, trying just a tad too hard to feign the glow of youthful naivete.  But Bloom and Rashad have a palpable chemistry and from the balcony scene onward, they literally can't keep their hands off each other.

Director David Leveaux has a weird obsession with two-wheeled vehicles.  Romeo enters on a motorcycle (for no apparent reason other than for the "cool" factor) and the nurse spends most of her time walking a bicycle around the stage.  Oddly, she never rides it.

There are some inconsistencies in the acting styles within the company and the production doesn't really seem to take place in any specific time or period, but it didn't bother me much since the language is so darn beautiful.

Not a total waste of an afternoon, but sitting in the Rodgers I was reminded of a former tenant, a show that I enjoyed much more, In The Heights.

The Three Witches' - er - I mean, Ethan Hawke's Macbeth

Macbeth
Lincoln Center
Wednesday, Nov 6, 8PM

With Trish hanging in RVA for the next couple of months, I had to find myself a new show buddy. Since most of my friends are certified musical theatre queens (me included), I resorted to a straight date with newly employed hetero friend, Chris Grimm. Sadly, our first "date" didn't amount to much, mainly due to a languid and uneven production. The evening seemed endless and after three hours, I was hoping to be the next victim of Ethan's dagger.

The sleek and stylish physical production, in cool shades of black and gray with the occasional splash of symbolic red, seemed a bit too chic for its own good, though it made for some visually stunning stage pictures. The couture costumes, especially for Lady Macbeth, seemed lifted straight out of a Vogue spread - gorgeous, but perhaps not entirely appropriate. Lighting and projections were suitably eerie and often spectacularly cinematic.

Unfortunately, the all-too-often bare (though gorgeously lit) stage led to some fairly stilted blocking with actors peppered around the huge Beaumont stage talking at each other with not much else to do. The lack of action created lots of tennis-match style ensemble work.

The only performers able to successfully navigate the director's sabotage were the three witches. Played by men in rotting-robed drag, John Glover, Byron Jennings, and Malcolm Gets make the strongest stage impression. Slipping in and out of character to play minor roles throughout the evening, the audience is led to believe that the events on stage are just part of some mystical destiny (occult symbolism is literally imbedded into the stage floor).

As for Ethan, when I could hear or understand him, was - well - adequate. His hoarse, unsupported voice and mushy diction thwarted his attempt at lending any strength or gravitas to his characterization. And with a strong and gorgeous Lady (Ann-Marie Duff) at his side, Hawke's Macbeth just comes off as a wimpy, spoiled man-child. Hawke did improve in bearing and strength (still raspy and hoarse, though) by the last hour of the play, but it was too little too late.

The rest of the supporting cast is strong, but all seemed to be in different productions of the same play. Acting styles were wildly inconsistent across the board.

This production would make a gorgeous glossy coffee table book.

Big Fish on Broadway - Sink or Swim?

Big Fish

Neil Simon Theatre

Saturday, Sept 7 @ 8pm

Another movie-to-musical adaptation?  I guess we should just get used to it since the trend won’t be abating anytime soon.  Not that I necessarily mind.  But the recent crop of adaptations seems to be a lame attempt by studios to make some quick cash from their old catalogs.  Just shoe-horn a mediocre score into an existing plot, keep the familiar title (albeit with the requisite “ - The Musical” suffix), market it to the brand-happy masses and voilà – instant Broadway hit.

At least Broadway’s newest film-to-stage project - or more accurately novel-to-film-to-stage project - Big Fish, aspires to more than just rehashing the movie and plugging in couple of show tunes.  With it's fantasy sequences and heart-on-sleeve emotions, the movie lends itself perfectly to characters suddenly breaking into song.  The creative team (with original screenplay writer, John August, penning the book) has retained the major plot points, but understandably streamlined the movie’s meandering story. 

Take note that tonight was only the fourth preview performance, so who knows what changes might happen between now and opening night.

Andrew Lippa’s score is surprisingly traditional.  It's got just a tinge of country and blues interspersed with several lush, heart-string-pulling ballads, vaguely reminiscent of another ballad-heavy Lippa score (one of my favorites), jon & jen.  You'd never guess this was from the same composer of The Addams Family, a show I actually enjoyed despite its workmanlike score.

The nostalgic wistfulness of "Time Stops" and earnest sweetness of "Daffodils" will leave romantics sniffling and cynics gagging (I'm in the former camp).

The always reliable Norbert Leo Butz (Edward Bloom) can prepare himself for yet another Tony nomination.  Though his quirky everyman shtick feels familiar, he has a unique gift for getting an audience to root for potentially unlikeable characters.  His performance here is appropriately showy but also unusually grounded, which helps smooth out some of the clunky transitions (mainly the fault of the direction, but more on that later) back-and-forth between the older and younger versions of his character.  

And why isn’t Kate Baldwin (Sandra Bloom) a big star?  That silky, clear soprano makes you yearn for the good old days when leading ladies didn't have to belt (i.e. screech) constant high F's or out-riff each other to impress.  Her 11-o-clock number, "I Don't Need a Roof," very nearly stopped the show - not to mention turning both Trish and I into blubbering piles of jelly.  And she looks gorgeous in every one of William Ivey Long's period perfect gowns.

Pssst, Lincoln Center, Kelli O’Hara has plenty on her plate.  Why not throw The King and I revival over to Ms. Baldwin? 

Trish's Broadway boyfriend, Bobby Steggert (Will Bloom), makes the most of an underwritten role.  His character is a cipher, seeming only to exist in order to give Butz's character a reason to tell another one of his stories.  Uncharacteristically, Steggert seemed to be having some vocal issues at tonight's performance, especially in his upper register - though he's not helped being straddled with one of the score’s few misses, the lyrically clunky “Stranger.”  

Julian Crouch’s scenic design is imaginative and appropriately fantastical.  He scores with a string of visually stunning moments.  Projections are a huge part of the design aesthetic and provide a cinematic feel and scale to the production.  Though beautiful, they sometimes feel like a cop out, used as a substitute for good old fashioned stage craft.  WWJTD - What would Julie Taymor do?

Susan Stroman’s direction/choreography is hit-or-miss. Sometimes it’s thrilling (the swamp trees) and sometimes it’s muddled and unfocused (the USO number).  It also appears she’s never ventured up into the mezzanine (where more than half the audience is seated) as much of the staging seems best viewed from the orchestra.  At times, too, the stage seemed rather sparsely populated.  It's surely a cost issue, but the look of the show would benefit from two or three more ensemble members.

Considering the events onstage have some personal resonance for Trish and I, we may have perhaps been more easily overcome by the charms of the musical than others.  Though I did notice a fair amount of tissue-passing going on around us.

Despite my reservations, I’m optimistic about Big Fish.  It’s a well-crafted, big, family musical that doesn’t pander to lowest common denominator with a lovely, original score and great performances.  It needs some tightening up and a snip here or there, but I’ll be back after opening to check it out again.

Straight men, be warned.  This is definitely the musical equivalent of a chick flick.

Don't forget to bring tissues.

Vanya and Sonia et al - the Broadway invasion of the topless hunk continues...

Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike
Golden Theatre
Wed, June 12 @ 8PM

What is up with all the waxed pecs and six-packs on display on the Great White Way this season?  Picnic, Pippin, Chicago, The Nance, The Performers, Breakfast At Tiffany's, Cat On a Hot Tin Roof, Golden Boy - just to name a few.  I haven't seen so many buff dudes displaying their wares in midtown since the Gaiety Theatre closed its dingy doors a decade ago.  Ah, the memories.  Not that I'm complaining.  I mean, if they could throw in some hunky, half naked man candy into Lucky Guy I'd definitely reconsider buying a ticket.

For all you respectable folk, there is plenty to enjoy in Vanya besides the half naked Billy Magnussen (though he is a bonus).  Vanya is the rare comedy written with intelligence and warmth that doesn't pander to its audience.  When was the last time you heard Chekhov quoted as a punchline?  The genius of Durang's writing is that even if you don't get all the references, it's still non-stop, laugh-out-loud funny.

The play focuses on aging siblings Vanya (a droll and adorable David Hyde Pierce) and Sonia (face contortionist Kristine Nielsen).  Both still single and living together in the family's rural home, they have let time and technology pass them by while their glamorous sister, Masha (Sigourney Weaver) has traveled the world as a famous actress.  When Masha returns for a visit with dippy boy toy Spike in tow, family resentments resurface and generation gaps widen.

Pierce and Nielsen, both comic geniuses, get to show off their serious acting chops with long, juicy monologues in the second act.  Nielsen is particularly moving in a self-depracating phone call with a possible suitor.  Pierce gets to let loose in a wild tirade against the isolating power of technology.  Weaver, though clearly having a ball, seems a bit stiff and vocally underpowered in comparison.

Magnussen's gender-reversed blond bimbo just can't seem to keep his clothes on.  His reverse strip tease is worth the price of admission, as is Nielsen's horrified reaction to it.  Shalita Grant is wickedly funny as the no-nonsense housekeeper/oracle.  Liesel Allen Yeager channels a young Alicia Siverstone a la "Clueless" (in a good way) as a starstruck wannabe actress.

Though fresh off Christopher Durang's Tony win for Best Play, Trish and I still managed to snag 30% discounted rear orchestra seats at the "half price" booth earlier that afternoon.  I'm hoping to pay a return visit when Julie White replaces Weaver later this summer.  She should be a good match for Nielsen and Pierce's brand of quirky humor.

With the small cast requirements and unit set, get ready to see Vanya invade the regional and summer stock theatres next year.

Pippin - so many ample bosoms...and that's just the men

Pippin

Music Box Theatre

Sunday, June 2, 3PM

I don't know what they're pumping into the vents at the Music Box Theatre, but from the audience reaction to the opening chords of "Magic To Do" you'd think we were at a monster truck rally in some swampy backwater town in Louisiana.  I know there's been lots of hype, and rightly so, surrounding Diane Paulus' circus-themed revival of the psychedelic 70s tuner.  But this afternoon's audience was whooping and hollering at a black curtain.  Or more likely, at $130 a ticket people have decided that they WILL have a good time in the theatre, no matter what, dammit!

With only a week until the Tonys and the show getting prime time play on every major talk show (it seems you can't change the channel without seeing Patina Miller's maniacal, toothy grin), I was frankly shocked to see the show available on TKTS, though only at 30% off (check out the nifty official smartphone app that shows real-time ticket availability).  So much for the days of "half-priced" tickets at the booth.  With a gift certificate from one of Trish's students subsidizing our little field trip, the price for two seats was almost affordable. 

Pippin has never been a favorite show of mine.  It's got a solid score with a couple of great Stephen Schwartz tunes but the clunky book is dated and gives off a kitschy 70s vibe that I'm sure can be traced to the consumption of too many mind-altering substances.  What made the original Pippin special was the iconic performance of Ben Vereen as the leading player and the genius of Bob Fosse's direction and choreography (both of which have luckily been captured on video).

Thankfully, Diane Paulus' newly re-imagined production breathes some new life into this 70s relic.  The circus theme is a perfect backdrop for Pippin's episodic book and for Patina Miller's demented ringmaster-on-crack leading player.  

The acrobatic and aerial work by Gypsy Snyder of Canadian circus troupe Les 8 doigts de la main keeps the stage in constant motion, adding an energy and momentum that is missing in the writing.  It also doesn't hurt to have the buff cast contort, leap and dance in an eye-popping array of flesh revealing costumes.

Broadway stalwart Terrence Mann adds a humanity, depth and humor to Charles, a character that usually comes off as a one dimensional cartoon.  Charlotte D'Amboise gives a solid, if workmanlike reading of the sexy Fastrada.  Andrea Martin (Berthe) practically steals (and stops) the show with her single, acrobatic scene.  I won't give spoilers, but Ms. Martin's performance will inspire grannies everywhere to start hitting the gym.  

Matthew James Thomas is an endearing Pippin with a lovely six pack (for those who care).  He lends the perfect balance of charm and innocence to a character that can often come off as a cipher.  His pretty pop tenor voice is perfect for the folksy score but he's got to watch the growling in his middle register or he won't have that pretty voice for long.  And did I mention his six pack?

I have mixed feelings about Patina Miller's leading player.  To say her performance is intense is like saying Michele Bachmann is quirky.  Subtle, Ms. Miller is not.  But it's clearly the choice she (and no doubt Paulus) has made for the character and Miller commits to it with an unbridled ferocity.  I don't necessarily agree with the choice, but I do respect the execution.  And besides, ain't nobody gonna' mess with Patina.  Have you seen those biceps?  

Chet Walker's choreography "in the style of Fosse" is by definition derivative.  But at least it's derivative of genius.  It doesn't re-invent Fosse as much as point out the current dearth of originality and artistry found on Broadway stages today.  Don't get me wrong, I don't think there's a lack of talent, only a lack of producers willing to take a chance on an unknown commodity.  Sigh. 

Regardless, you should catch the revival now with the original cast.  I can definitely see how this production, which relies heavily on the quirkiness and individuality of each cast member, may suffer once replacements start filtering into the production.

Orphans and Trip To Bountiful

It’s been a while, but here are some thoughts on plays I’ve seen recently.

Orphans

Schoenfeld Theatre

Tuesday, April 9, 7pm

it’s hard to take Alec Baldwin seriously in a drama when he’s delivery his lines a la Jack Donaghy (which he plays brilliantly on 30 Rock). 

Maybe he’s inhabited the Donaghy character for so long that he’s adopted that same dry, self-important tone in real life.  Who knows?  But what should be a taut, psychological thriller loses its edge with unintentionally funny line readings from Baldwin that kill any sense of tension.

Tom Sturridge gets the showier role of the emotionally-stunted, seemingly simple-minded younger brother, Phillip, to Ben Foster’s short-tempered but well-meaning older brother, Treat.  Their interaction and weirdly co-dependent relationship is intriguing and hints at so many darker themes of abuse and abandonment.  Unfortunately, once Baldwin enters, the piece just sort of deflates.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like the play suddenly turns into a Neil Simon comedy.  But there’s an underlying, ominous quality that sort of dissipated as the show progressed.  In fairness, I’d place a large portion of the blame on the director for not coaxing the right style out of Baldwin.  Too bad, since we're not likely to get another revival anytime soon.

During my silent intermission brainstorming session (Trish wasn’t with me and the friendly father and son from Calgary seated next to me were enjoying the show too much for me to rip it to shreds in front of them) I came up with some more interesting casting choices for Baldwin's role:  Liam Neeson, Liev Schreiber, Tony Goldwyn, Dustin Hoffman, Ed Harris, Russell Crowe, Denzel Washington, Sean Penn, Mark Ruffalo, Stanley Tucci, Michael Shannon...to name a few.  These guys all possess a dark quality and twisted sense of humor that Baldwin lacks.  I guess I just don't find Baldwin "dangerous."

On a side note, I can’t imagine Shia LeBeouf coming off well in the role of Treat, since Treat needs to have an intrinsic charm and likeability to counteract his abrasive character.  Given LeBeouf is about as charming as a bucket of dirt, I’d say they producers were lucky he left the production.

The Trip To Bountiful

Stephen Sondheim Theatre

Friday, April 5, 8pm

Talk about star wattage – Vanessa Williams, Tom Wopat, Cuba Gooding, Condola Rashad AND Cicely Tyson.  I imagine there was probably a lot of ego bumping during rehearsals.  But if so, it didn’t manifest itself on stage.  And anyway, I’m sure they were all bowing down in deference to Ms. Tyson.

Even with the A-List cast, the only reason to check out this revival is the performance of the legendary Ms. Tyson in the lead role of Carrie Watts, an elderly woman hoping to escape a stifling city life in Houston to return to her rural hometown.   To say she commands the stage would be an understatement.  She’s mesmerizing even when silently rocking on a chair and looking out a window.  And is it humanly possible the woman is 88 years old?  I hope I retain the same energy and mental capacity when I’m the same age (in 2058!).

The play itself can feel slow and a bit talky and in the wrong hands can be a real snoozer.  Luckily, director Michael Wilson has kept the dramatic pauses to a minimum and the pace brisk without feeling rushed.

As for the supporting cast, Gooding (as Carrie’s son, Ludie) and Williams (as Ludie’s self-centered wife, Jessie Mae) are a good match.  Though Gooding was a tad on the whiny side, he was still likeable in his Broadway debut.  The role of strong-willed Jessie Mae, on the other hand, seems tailored made for Williams and her particular brand of powerful sexiness.  It certainly doesn't hurt that Williams looks dazzlingly beautiful in the period costumes. 

Speaking of costumes, one upside to non-traditionally casting the main characters as a black family is that you can get away with some more colorful choices for the period clothing given their skin tones.  It's nice not to see the usual dour muddy hues usually associated with plays set in this period.

My favorite moment of this revival came during the bus station scene.  Tyson’s character is celebrating her escape from the city with an impromptu rendition of “Blessed Assurance.”  By about the third line, the audience had spontaneously joined her, singing out full-voiced like we were at a Sunday revival.  It's a moment that could only happen in the context of live theatre and reminds me why iPads and wide screen TV's will never replace the spontaneity of a live performance.

Save some time on the telecast and just hand Ms. Tyson her Tony already.

Jekyll & Hyde (sigh)

Jekyll & Hyde
Marriott Marquis Theatre
Sunday, May 5, 2pm

Wow, just wow.  This Broadway revival is the (hopefully) last stop after a 25-week national tour.  I mean, I’m all for second chances, but the current revival is really just a train wreck.  I can’t believe any producer thought this was Broadway ready/caliber.  And besides, 12 years seems a bit soon for a show that is generally not considered a “classic” by most (all?) musical theatre experts.
 
The show has been re-worked, notably given new rock arrangements that I assume were implemented to give the score an “edgier” sound.  I’ll admit this score has always been a secret guilty pleasure, especially with Colm Wilkinson and Linda Eder’s vibrant vocals on the original concept album.  But the new synth-heavy orchestrations reduce the already power ballad-heavy score into a cheesy tribute to 80s hair bands. 

Unfortunately, no amount of electric guitar riffs or excessive American Idoli-esque vocalizing can hide the scores shortcomings – notably the lack of lyrical specificity and the generally unimaginative melodic/harmonic structures – though there’s no denying Wildhorn has a gift for writing memorable musical hooks.

Constantine Maroulis employs his signature curly mane to excess and his pouty trademark “blue steel” is intact for all the fans.  But vocally?  Hmmm.  Yes, it’s a strong voice with an impressive range, but either the musical director has no balls or Maroulis just doesn’t give a rats ass about vocal finesse or about serving the lyric.  His back-phrasing is so extreme that at times it sounds like a recording where the technician pressed the “start” button on the vocal and orchestral tracks a measure (or more) apart.  It’s self-indulgent and screams - literally - “look at ME” at the expense of the score.


And his “accent” – oy vey!  Does Maroulis have something against ending sentences with a long “e” vowel?  i.e. “listen to meh,” “…to beh or not to beh” – OK, that last quote is not from Jekyll & Hyde, but you get the idea.

Deborah Cox fairs much better.  She’s not a natural actress and at times seems to be giving a somewhat mechanical, though committed, performance.  But she’s gorgeous (those calf muscles are dazzling) and has star presence and charisma to spare.  She at least gets an “A” for effort. 

At yesterday’s matinee Cox was suffering from some obvious vocal fatigue, but I give her props for somehow managing to squeeze out a thrilling last note and verse on “A New Life.”  And in a British accent cage match, her cockney would beat the living crap out of Maroulis’ high Brit. 

Trish hated the physical production, though it didn’t bother me.  Compared to the scaffolding of the originally production, this seemed positively lush.  At times the projections did seem like overkill.  Come on, producers, give the audience a little credit for having some kind of imagination.  And I actually liked the steampunk-inspired costume designs.

If you didn’t get a chance to catch this production, too bad.  It’s closing seven weeks early due to low ticket sales. 

Cinderella on Broadway (finally) and my other musical obsession (sorry Audra)

Cinderella
Broadway Theatre
Thursday, March 7, 7pm

I have just two words for you – Victoria Clark.  She could add class to a mud wrestling tournament at the Alabama State Fair.  But I’m getting ahead of myself. 

With all the talk about a glossy new book and a modernized, empowered Cinderella, Trish and I took our seats in the nosebleed section (thanks, TDF) expecting a hot mess.  Instead, we were happily surprised to find the charming core of R+H’s show still intact. 

For the show’s first Broadway mounting (it was originally written and produced as a TV special), the R+H estate decided to gussy up the original by tossing out the existing book and raiding their own catalogue to fill out the score. 

Okay, some of the added left-leaning rhetoric is a bit heavy-handed.  A new character, political rabble-rouser Jean-Michel, seems to have wandered onstage from a touring production of Les Mis.  Regardless, I was still charmed by the production. 

You’d think hiring the campy Douglas Carter Beane (Little Dog Laughed, Xanadu and the screenplay of To Wong Foo…) to write the new book would all but guarantee that at least one of the stepsisters be played by a drag queen snapping, “You best clean out that fire place, gurl.”  Thankfully, he’s turned downt the camp factor several notches in favor of a healthy smattering of hilarious, if anachronistic, one-liners.

Granted, Beane’s sometimes self-referential, snarky writing style isn’t exactly a perfect fit for the earnest simplicity of Hammerstein’s lyrics.  But I’m sure the only thing the producers had in mind was how to keep a new generation of audience member reared on South Park and The Simpsons, to sit still for two hours.  A prime example of this degradation of audience etiquette came during the first act finale when the woman sitting directly behind us answered her cell phone. 

“I’m at a show.  No, I’m actually in the theatre watching a Broadway show right now.   Sorry, I can’t talk because it’s distracting to the people around me.”

I shit you not.  Moving on…

The familiar plot remains essentially the same though the King and Queen have been axed in favor of an evil counselor for the prince, one stepsister is now sympathetic to Cinderella's plight and there is now a romantic sub-plot between the "good" stepsister and Jean-Michel.

As for the physical production, it's all about the costumes.  The onstage transformations are off the hook.  Torn rags somehow instantaneously morph into voluminous gowns.  The moment Prince Topher sets eyes on Ella in her first white gown (yes, Beane’s gone for a hipper shortening of both the lead characters’ names), I was practically verklempt - though not really a surprise considering I cry at the opening of a Walmart.

When the Fairy God Mother presents Ella with a pair of glittering Italian glass slippers, some crazy queen in the balcony actually gasped out loud, causing a wave of tittering across the theatre.  And no, that queen was not me.

Just hand William Ivey Long the Tony now for his costume designs.

Laura Osnes’ Cinderella is sincere, charming and refreshingly irony-free and she sings the score beautifully.  Santino Fontana (Prince Topher) may not have traditional leading man looks (though from our rear balcony seats he looked just fine), but he has a boyish, goofy charm and sense of humor that won me over.  And that voice.  Dreamy.

I already mentioned Victoria Clark, but I need to gush again because her voice is just perfection.

My ultimate fantasy?  Victoria Clark, Audra McDonald and Carolee Carmello singing “I Will Never Leave You” from Side Show as a trio.  I dare you to come up with a combination that tops that on the gay-meter.

Hands On A Hardbody - White Trash Get Their Day on the Great White Way

Hands On A Hardbody
Brooks Atkinson Theatre 
Sat, March 2, 2pm

With jukebox musicals and lame movie adaptations littering the Broadway, I really wanted to like Hands On A Hardbody, an American musical with an original score and intriguing concept.  Sadly, I found it rife with white trash stereotypes and a lukewarm pay-off. 

The musical is based on the similarly titled, award-winning documentary chronicling an endurance competition in which contestants stand with one hand on the prize, a shiny red truck.  The last man standing – literally – wins.  Doesn’t exactly shout “Make me a Musical!” does it?

I don’t necessarily have an issue with the source material.  I mean, Sondheim routinely manages to coerce masterworks out of seemingly impenetrable topics.  But I don’t think the creators of Hardbody found the hook necessary to make this material sing.  And let’s face it, two-and-a-half hours of watching people standing around a truck is a lot to ask of any audience.

The internet chat boards have compared Hardbody to A Chorus Line, another high concept show low on plot.  The difference, though, is there is inherent action at a dance audition. In Hardbody, the writers, director and choreographer have to create forward momentum from a static activity. 

I admit the truck-ography is impressive, but after about 20 minutes the novelty had definitely worn off.  We might as well have been at the Javits for the Auto Show.

Not that there aren’t moments of inspiration amongst the white trash clichés.  Keala Settle raises the roof with a Stomp-inspired Gospel number.  But even this is a triumph of staging rather than story-telling, since we’ve already learned everything we need to know about her character from previous book scenes. Not to mention that technically, every contestant should have been disqualified since their hands all leave the truck during the drumming. 

I realize the other characters are based on real life contestants, but their stories are mind-numbingly familiar: the meet-cute young couple who yearn to begin thrilling new lives in LA, the trashy bimbo trying to go straight, the ex-military guy who wants to win and make his son proud, the injured, out-of-work older guy with the pestering wife...and on and on and on.  Sure, you want to stay true to the story, but this isn’t a documentary, it’s a Broadway musical. 

The score is a mixed bag of country-inspired tunes.  But like the show, the lyrics are riddled with clichés and rhymes you can spot a mile away. 

There might be a show lurking somewhere amidst all these good ol' boys and girls, but I think it’s a case of re-writing and re-conceptualizing the entire show which, I’m sure, ain’t gonna’ happen.

Just off the top of my head, a few of my issues with the show's current musical structure:

• The opening sets us up to believe this is going to be Benny’s (Hunter Foster) story, then flips it to J D (Keith Carradine) after getting rid of Benny halfway through the second act.
• Writing that trades on stereotypes to fill in characterization (the soldier, the white trash old lady, et al).
• Wasting time giving side character’s full songs when a verse or part of a shared song (to give a feeling of community) would do.
• Repetitive choreography.  Though I realize there are only so many different ways to dance around a truck without taking your hand off of it.
• And a personal staging pet peeve, the slow motion march to connote a flashback to war.  Just a bit too obvious given the trite sentiments of the song it’s set to.  As soon as the chorus got into silhouetted position, I was rolling my eyes.

Annie

Annie
Palace Theatre
Friday, Feb 8, 8pm performance

After years obsessing over this show's thrilling overture on the original Broadway cast recording - sadly cut to shreds in the current revival - I finally got a chance to see my first, live stage performance of Annie. 
 
Thanks to Storm Nemo, Trish, me and visiting friend, Dylan, scored ninth row center orchestra seats via the half-price TKTS booth.  Given the storm, it was no surprise the curtain went up nearly 15 minutes late.  The real surprise came at 8:00 PM when we turned to survey the nearly half-empty theatre.  I had a flashback to the 2004 Broadway production of Dracula, The Musical.  At that yawn-inducing performance, I shared the entire balcony with just one other pathetic show queen, my legs draped over the seatback in front of me, half dozing and waiting for Kelli O’Hara’s nude scene.

Sadly, nothing as exciting as Kelli’s bare breasts is on display at the Palace. 

In the title role, spunky Lilla Crawford possesses a freakishly high and unusually pleasant belt.  And yes, I got nostalgically misty-eyed when she reached the penultimate refrain of “Tomorrow,” but it was tough to get past some of her rather - how shall I put it? - "extreme" acting choices.  I know it’s a dick move to pick on an 11-year-old, but hell, she’s got two more Broadway credits than I do, so she’ll need to suck it up.  

In fairness, James Lapine should probably carry the burden of guilt for many of these questionable choices (i.e. Annie literally having a full-on screaming fit when Warbucks tries to take her pendant).  From the very opening scene, moodily lit and draped in fake stage smoke, to the entrance of the super-scary, seemingly Gestapo-trained Hannigan (Katie Finneran), it’s obvious the artistic team was going for a darker, more “real” Annie.  But I’m not sure the orphanage scenes should read like DVD extras off of "Schindler's List."

To her credit, Finneran balances this darkness with the same quirky sense of humor that made her a stand-out (and Tony winner!) in the 2010 Broadway revival of Promises, Promises.  But at the performance I attended, her usually perfect comic timing seemed a bit off - perhaps a combination of the late start and storm - though she seemed to find her groove again about midway through the first act.

The choreography by In The Heights alum Andy Blankenbuehler had not a whiff of period authenticity, but was always interesting if at times bizarrely modern.  His only true miss was the unfortunate closing tap number.  There’s something definitely amiss when your dancing ensemble of Broadway vets looks like it was plucked from a community theatre production of Dames At Sea.

The physical production was also a series of hits and misses.  The opening tableau, the orphanage and Warbucks’ mansion felt appropriately full and sumptuous, but the entire NYC montage took place on a mainly bare stage with only a few cheesy digital effects projected onto the sprawling, back scrim. 

The small adult ensemble sounded gorgeous, but their numbers could barely fill the huge Palace stage in the large ensemble scenes. No amount of costume changes could cover the fact that the same six exhausted cast members kept running back on stage.

The orphans are all appropriately cute and obviously talented, but even with the Benetton-ad diversity, they are for the most part, indistinguishable (again, I blame the direction).

Rooster and Lily are appropriately bumbling, finding the right combination of comic silliness to balance this productions penchant for gritty realism.  J. Elaine Marcos successfully straddles the line of political correctness, imbuing Lily with the clueless naivete of Long Duk Dong in Sixteen Candles while sounding like a surly Chinese take-out waitress.

Anthony Warlow is the perfect Warbucks, handsome and possessing a gorgeous ringing, legit baritone voice.  The theatre queen in me is practically squealing at the thought of his Ben Stone or Guido Contini.

Brynn O’Malley is adequately prim and proper as Grace, but is also oddly cold and aloof.  One wonders why Warbucks is even attracted to her.  And why does she have a British accent?

The current revival is slick, well-produced, with several very good - and a couple of great - moments, but ultimately didn’t satisfy as a theatrical whole.

On a side note, while waiting for the subway at 49th Street and discussing the show, some random guy jumped into our conversation, having obviously been eavesdropping from nearby.  Not creepy at all.  Of course, if he had looked like Ryan Gosling rather than Newman from Seinfeld, I'd probably not have minded so much.  And yes, I totally admit how superficial that seems, but I guess that's why Ted Bundy was so successful.

Nice Work If You Can Get It or Crazy-For-You Lite

Nice Work If You Can Get It
Imperial Theatre
Thursday, Feb 7, 7pm

Seriously, can we please set-up a statute of limitation for the use of “Someone To Watch Over Me” in a Broadway show?  At least another 50 years, please?  Sure, it’s a classic, but the Gershwins did write other love songs, ya’ know.

Sorry, rant over.  Anyway – why “Crazy-For-You” Lite?  Well, unlike Crazy For You, this little Gershwin bauble isn’t based on an existing Gershwin show, but created from scratch by looting the Gershwin catalogue and throwing together what is supposed to be a capricious tale of a millionaire playboy and a tomboy bootlegger.  It’s apparently “based on material” by Guy Bolton and P.G.Wodehouse, whatever that means, since it was nominated for Best NEW Musical at the 2012 Tony Awards.

It’s also not quite as funny, the book writing isn’t nearly as tight, the songs aren’t integrated quite as well and the production numbers aren’t nearly as clever or exciting as its predecessor.

So I hated it, right?  Well, not exactly.  How can you hate a Gershwin score or the delightful (if miscast) Kelli O’Hara? 

Director/choreographer Kathleen Marshall doesn’t quite provide the needed pace and manic energy a musical farce requires.   And a 1920s musical without a single tap number?  Sacrilege!

Some of the blame can also be thrown at book writer Joe DiPietro, who does provide some solid laughs, but whose many one-liners are hit-and-miss.

I loves me some Kelli O’Hara, but she’s not quite tomboyish enough for my taste, though her singing is sublime (as usual).  She also shows a knack for whacky physical comedy in her hilarious take on “Treat Me Rough.”  Who knew?

Ferris Bueller…er, I mean, Matthew Broderick, is appealing, if a bit too stoic as playboy, Jimmy.  His intentionally underplayed characterization is an interesting choice, but one wonders why so many gals have fallen under the spell of this schlumpy, personality-free mama’s boy.

Standouts for me were the secondary couple, Robyn Hurder and Chris Sullivan (Jeannie and Duke).  Her ditzy blonde and his loveable goofball have the only real onstage chemistry.

Judy Kaye and Blythe Danner are fun, but wasted in small supporting roles.   And the costumer should be sentenced to community service at Easy Pickins for putting Ms. Danner in that unflattering black flapper dress.

If Ms. Marshall had choreographed the entire show with the same sense of frothy fun she found staging “Delishious” (spoiler alert: the ensemble spilling clown-car-like from the tiny bathtub), the show might have risen above the limitations of the book.

Oh well, just bring on a revival of Crazy For You!

Shakin’ his Broadway Bon Bon - Ricky Martin in Evita

Evita

Marriott Marquis Theatre

Saturday, Jan 5, 8pm

Menudo!  Gotta' love the 80s!

No, Ricky does not play Eva in the current Broadway revival (check out that mullet!).  Although I’d definitely pay premium prices for the sight of those waxed pecs in the white “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina” gown.  And after spending an intense afternoon with Benjamin Walker’s repressed Brick, Trish and I decided a night spent with everyone’s favorite Latin dish would be just the ticket for a cold winter night.

I don’t know what voodoo witchcraft he prescribes to, but that Ricky just gets better looking with age.  I mean, he’s so glaringly attractive that you almost don’t notice he can’t act.  Perhaps I’m just a bit critical, having played the role myself years ago with staging based on the original, brilliant Hal Prince concept. 

Ricky looks and sounds wonderful, has charisma to spare and his accent adds some extra sex appeal, but he’s basically just being Ricky Martin.  I didn’t sense he had a strong connection to the story or that his character had a discernable point of view.  He also loses points for his generic “robot arm” acting gestures.  But since he’s so dreamy, I’ll give Ricky the benefit of the doubt and blame the director for any shortcomings.  I mean, if you cast a pop star with limited acting chops, you’d better direct the hell out of him or have him shirtless throughout.  Am I right, ladies?

Of course, the Latin-heavy tourist crowd (the opening cell phone announcement was made in both English and Spanish) could have cared less about silly details like acting.  And given the very loud chatter throughout the show (in Spanish, btw, so I’m not just making broad racist assumptions), most of the crowd didn’t even realize they were in a Broadway theatre and not casually lounging in their living rooms.  The gentleman next to me was literally chanting “Peron” along with the cast.  I kid you not.

Many in the theatre chat rooms have complained about Elena Roger’s vocal deficiencies.  Granted, hers is perhaps the ugliest, shrillest voice in the history of Broadway leading ladies - and that’s being generous.  Despite that, by the middle of the first act I had warmed to - or at least gotten used to - her odd vocal quality and actually quite enjoyed her performance.  Let’s face it, the show is basically a check-list of historical events with little character development inherent in the script and score.  And still, Roger’s manages to provide a thrilling, three dimensional performance without belting any high notes -- though they are sorely missed.  Her Eva is strong yet sympathetic, making her act two decline particularly moving.

Like Roger, Michael Cerveris elevates his material well beyond what on paper is a very sketchy characterization.  Though I must admit, to my ears his basso profundo always seems faked and artificial.  It doesn’t have the true bass-baritone ring of a George Hearn or James Barbour.  I guess you could say the artificiality adds to his characterization of a manipulative politician.  Or you could say he’s just faking it.

Even though I take swipes at the script and score, Evita is actually my favorite Andrew Lloyd Webber show.  It’s concise, driving and contains some of his best melodies.  When performed well, the show is visceral and exciting to watch.  But because the characters aren’t intrinsically sympathetic, it takes a great director/choreographer to make the show work.

If you don’t know the original Hal Prince staging or are only reading this review to find out if they’ve added a Che nude scene (no such luck, folks), then you can probably stop reading now. 

In no particular order, these are my specific observations of the staging and production values given my familiarity with the material and original staging (warning: spoilers ahead and probably really boring if you’re not an Evita-phile).

• For the most part, I liked the tango inflected choreography, especially in the opening “…Circus” and “Buenos Aires.”
• Tempos, especially in the first 30 minutes of the show are deathly slow and kill any momentum inherent in the rock and Latin rhythms of the score.
• The set is gorgeous, but clunky.
• Cutting the opening scene in the movie theatre is a mistake.  The scene gives the audience a frame of reference as to how much the common Argentine folks loved Eva Peron. 
• The original musical chairs concept for “Art of the Possible” makes much more sense than the weird, tango fight staging in the current production.  The point of the scene is that Peron’s ascent to power is random, like winning a game of musical chairs.  The staged fighting doesn’t nearly convey this point as clearly.
• In the original staging of “Waltz for Eva and Che,” the two dance but never touch.  To me, this is a much stronger choice since it emphasizes Che’s role as an observer, not participant.  It also visually symbolizes Eva’s wish to separate herself from her humble beginnings.
• The ensemble choral singing is superb.